As Life Goes On
by Leaping Lion
Summary: A compilation of my various Quinn fics. Chapter 3- Summary: After a startling dream, Quinn goes to clear her head and runs into the one person she didn't want to see, Shyvana.
1. Quinn's Armor

Disclaimer: I own nothing about these characters. These characters are from the game League of Legends which is owned by Riot Games. I make no money from this story.

Summary: As Quinn begins her life as Demacia's Wings, she contemplates a set of armor made just for her.

Quinn watched him as he climbed the steps. Prince Jarvan still baffled her. He was the opposite of everything she had thought. His steps were smooth and confident but not arrogant, reminding her of the soldiers she had seen as a child, marching though the city.

They reached the top of the stairs and Prince Jarvan led her down a hallway and finally stopped in front of a door. He turned the knob, pushing the door open to reveal a spacious room.

"This will be your room from now on."

His tone easily implied that she shouldn't try to fight him on this. This room would be her's and there was no room for argument.

She slowly stepped into the room, her eyes quickly scanning the open space before she determined that no one would be jumping out at her. The colors were easy on her eyes, light brown walls and similar carpeting easily reminded her of the woods and the forest.

Reminded her of Caleb.

She shut her eyes and clenched her hands, forcing the thought away. She wouldn't ruin this day with such painful thoughts. She deserved a day free of guilt.

"Should you require anything, let one of the servants know. They will accommodate you," Prince Jarvan said behind her. She nodded and refused to look behind her till the door closed.

Letting out the breathe she didn't notice she was holding, she spotted a window and quickly raced over, popping it open. The cool breeze hit her and she felt the tension drain from her body. As she propped the window completely open, she spotted Valor circling above the building and raised her arm.

Valor circled once more before he swooped down and entered the window, bypassing Quinn's arm entirely to take perch on a nearby chair.  
"You silly thing. Chairs are not perches." Valor just looked at her and she sighed in mock disgust, "Fine, you can stay there all night. However, do not complain to me when you wake up and your poor claws hurt."

Receiving no reply, Quinn stepped away from the window and stretched. Now that the tension was gone, she didn't feel so weighed down, so paranoid that someone would jump out from the shadows and slit her throat. Valor was by her side again and she was safe.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted folded clothes sitting on the room's bed. The beige material looked more comfortable than her dirt covered leathers. The more she thought about her current clothes, the more she desired to get out of them.

Getting out of skin-tight leathers always had the chance of slipping off easy... or forcing her to make a complete fool of herself by skipping around on one foot while trying to pry the material off the other. It took some time, but she was pleased to announce that she didn't fall once.

The leather pants now lay on the pristine white sheets and she took into account the damage the material had sustained in the fight and that they wouldn't be repairable. Her jacket was salvageable, but only barely. She'd have to get rid of the sleeves entirely...

She slipped on the roomy pants, enjoying the loose material. If she had to wear pants ever again, she was going to wear nice and loose material. Sure, tight leggings always got the job done, but sometimes the leathers toughened in the middle of a journey and that was not easy to run it.  
As she slipped her over-shirt off, she stopped to think. What would they have her wear now?

She wasn't so naive that she believed they would let her slip away, back into the wilderness were she truly belonged. No, they would keep her close. She was given a place among the Demacian Elite, something no one just turned down.

Grabbing her bag, she slid into the unoccupied chair and opened her sketch book to an empty page. She took the pencil first, slowly drawing a figure. She added hair and a face similar to what she thought she looked like. Several attempts later, she was pleased with the base model and sat back, pencil on her lips, and thought about what she would want to look like.

Comfortable was her first thought and she smirked. Sketching on some baggy pants, she laughed at what she had drawn and quickly erased the outfit.

Valor raised on his wings, preening the feathers. She had always admired the beauty that Valor had, the sleek graceful look of his wings and tail.  
She watched him, taking in the shape of his feathers and their arrangement. She would want to look like Valor. She wanted to honor him, to emphasize him. He was a part of her as much as her weapons, and if she had the chance to make her own armor, she would make sure he had a part in it.

She sketched out a small cloak, the ends mimicking his wing feathers. She also added a perch for him on an out-stretched arm, something that would allow him to land easily and take off from. She added in mock tail feathers to the outfit. It would match the cloak in color, she thought as she pulled out a blue inked pen she carried. The blue carried over into armor for her legs. The leg armor would be in two pieces, she decided. They would attach to a belt at her waist and would cover her legs. Her hips would have armor that moved, that shifted against each other. Nothing restrictive, but something that would give her some protection to her hips and waist. The armor would be connected by material that would lay on top of a body suit perhaps. The bodysuit underneath would give her the movement that she required, but the armor on top would give her the protection she needed.

The material would reach her knees and connect with knee guards. She sketched them pointed, much like Valor's beak. She looked over at Valor and laughed to herself, well maybe not exactly like Valor's beak...

She didn't know how long she had been sketching till a knock on her door pulled her out of her head. She had to blink for a moment before calling out, "Come in."

A servant woman opened the door and gave a deep bow, "My Lady, if you would please come with me, the bathing area is ready for you."  
My lady? Quinn snorted to herself, much to the shock of the servant, but followed the servant out, none the less.

It wasn't too long after they left the room that another knock sounded. After a few moments, the door was opened to reveal Prince Jarvan, who swept the room with a glance. His eyes didn't see Quinn, but they caught on the scraps of paper that littered the table. He thought for a moment about the privacy of woman, but quickly abandoned the thought to his curiosity. A report perhaps?

It wasn't a report that sat on the table, but a sketch. A sketch of a rather unique looking set of armor that was worn by the newly famous Quinn herself. On her arm, sat her regal Valor.

"Prince Jarvan," a voice called from the doorway. Still holding the sketch, Jarvan turned to see the tailor he had instructed to meet him. Looking back at the sketch in his hand, he made his decision and smiled to himself.

Exiting the room, he gave the sketch to the tailor, "Send this to the Armor-smith."

The tailor looked at the sketch in his hands and set a questioning look to his prince, "Sir?"

"I want it done and ready for Quinn by the end of the week. Don't disappoint me."

With a gulp, the tailor nodded, "As my prince wishes."


	2. In for a Penny, In for a Pound

Disclaimer: I own nothing about these characters. These characters are from the game League of Legends which is owned by Riot Games. I make no money from this story.

Summary: She could deal with the attention she got inside the castle, but a parade was pushing it.

A parade. He wanted her to wear this... _thing_... to a parade in front of the entire nation of Demacia! She looked at herself in the mirror and would have let out a huff in annoyance, if _he_ wasn't sitting at his desk a few feet away.

She hated _him_ with a passion. _He_ kept pushing her into things she didn't want to do and into even worse clothing. The first set of armor _he_ had commissioned for her was a disaster and she had quickly sent it back and ordered the armor smith to scrap it.

Apparently, telling something like that to an armor smith sent them into depression. _He_ had forced her to walk down to the shop and formally apologize for her 'harsh words' and say that she would be pleased to wear anything the smith could craft for her.

Which was a lie, but hey, the smith stopped crying.

She turned to the side, hoping to get used to the bright colors of the outfit. In all honesty, the colors matched Valor's plumage almost perfectly. The castle tailor had managed to capture the essence of her drawing in a way that the armor smith hadn't. She would have said something to the man when he had brought up the finished piece, but _he_ had said that if she couldn't compliment the armor smith, she couldn't compliment the tailor.

Stiff jerk. She'd have kicked _him_, but she had no doubt that _his_ armor would come out of the altercation better than the pointed tips of her new 'boots'. Why scratch such 'beautiful craftsmanship'...

A throat cleared behind her and she turned to see _him_, Prince Jarvan, standing up behind his desk with an impatient look on his face.

"Come. We must leave now or we will delay your presentation."

Quinn gave herself one last look over before she rolled her eyes and walked to the door, Jarvan trailing behind her.

The whole 'presentation' was a joke to her. She didn't need to be introduced to Demacia, they already knew her. Her face had been plastered all over the city and even the smallest of children were being told bed-time stories of the Mighty Quinn and Valor, Demacia's Wings. She wholeheartedly hated the attention.

Valor, on the other hand, was soaking up the attention. The bird beak enjoyed the attention he got when he opened his wings and soared through the city. People could start to tell time by Valor if he kept up his morning flight. She had made a comment to him the other day about how much weight he was putting on, taking all the treats from sweet little children. The scratches she received from the offended eagle were well hidden under her gloves.

Climbing into the carriage that would carry her down the main streets of Demacia, Quinn pointedly ignored the prince that sat next to her. She wanted him to know that she wasn't pleased with him or the situation. It was several minutes of silence before the carriage began to move. The citizens of Demacia began to cheer as their newest hero come into sight. She wanted to cover her ears at all the loud noises and was glad that Valor hadn't been forced to come.

The city streets were more crowded than she would have expected. Men, women, and children were everywhere, clogging up narrow spaces along the street. Every few feet stood a Demacian soldier in full regalia, but their presence didn't seem to worry those citizens who had come to see their hero.

"Smile," was muttered to her from her right and it took all of her control not to stand up and jump off the cart, ending this farce of a parade. She clenched her fists and turned to look at him. Before she could say a thing, her breath caught at the smile she saw on his face. It was a small smile, no teeth and just the slight upturn of a corner. His eyes were on the crowds around them, but he seemed less tense than he had been lately. She bit her tongue and turned back to the crowds and forced a smile onto her lips.

The parade went smoothly from there. She kept the smile on her face and occasionally raised a hand to wave at the children that stood on the side of the road. It wasn't until the last stretch that she saw them.

Two kids, probably eight or nine, playing behind the crowds that lined the streets. A boy and a girl, holding sticks as mock swords and playing around. The boy would wave his stick at the girl and the girl would wave hers back. Sometimes the sticks would hit, but the two children would just laugh. Quinn watched them for awhile, the smile on her face growing bigger the more the two children played. It took her awhile to realize why she took so much pleasure from watching the two.

These two children reminded her so much of her childhood with Caleb. She could remember them finding sticks and having epic sword fights, battling against giant creatures in the woods outside their small town. She could remember the time they had scrapped together enough coins to purchase real weapons from the local wood carver. The wooden bow and sword would eventually give way to real weapons and-

A snap of wood and a small cry broke her from the daydream and her eyes narrowed in on the children, who were no longer playing.

The girl was holding two pieces of wood now, her 'sword' snapped in half. The boy was looking at his playmate in horror and then sorrow. He held out his stick but the girl just shook her head, eyes on her broken weapon.

Quinn didn't think twice about jumping out of the slow moving carriage and moving toward the two children, fingers messing with the weapon on her belt. She ignored the calls from Prince Jarvan and the various soldiers, pushing her way towards the children through the crowd.

The girl didn't notice Quinn till a shadow covered her. Looking up, her eyes went wide at the sight of Quinn and she scrambled away, knocking into the boy. Both of them went sprawling onto the ground and Quinn just grinned.

"Couldn't help but notice your weapon broke." Quinn said as she crouched down before the children on the ground, "I thought maybe you could use a new one." She pulled the small crossbow from her side and held it out, allowing them to take in the glorious weapon.

Quinn knew it was well crafted and she was quite impressed by the workmanship of it. Prince Jarvan had forced her to test several crossbows before she picked this one. It fired well and had a reliable locking mechanism, perfect for a beginner in her opinion.

The girl and boy got to their feet and huddled around the weapon. The girl was hesitant to touch the metal, but with some gentle encouragement from Quinn, the girl held the crossbow in her hands, mouth agape with wonder.

Quinn took the time getting up from her crouched position and turning around to connect eyes with Prince Jarvan.

The annoyance in his eyes filled her with elation and she slowly made her way back to the carriage, enjoying the moment.

Sure, the weapon was probably worth its weight in gold and was never meant to be held by children. She considered her giving away the weapon sweet revenge on Prince Jarvan for forcing her to come to this parade.

Besides, it wasn't like she had given them the arrows to the bow.


	3. May the Best Win

Disclaimer: I own nothing about these characters. These characters are from the game League of Legends which is owned by Riot Games. I make no money from this story.

Summary: After a startling dream, Quinn goes to clear her head and runs into the one person she didn't want to see, Shyvana.

Quinn bolted up from her sleep, a scream lodged in her throat. She felt hot and cold all at once and it took her a few seconds to remember where she was. The bed underneath her was solid and she could see sunlight out of the corner of her eye. She was in her room then, in the castle.

She let herself fall back onto the bed and reached up to run both her hands through her hair, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The nightmare still lingered and she desperately wished that this had been a dream she would forget upon wakening.

It was a dream she had been expecting, but not like this; a dream of her being on the Rift, fighting for her life and seeing Jarvan there with her. Except, in this dream, he wasn't just with her; he was killing her. She could remember him standing across the field, spear in hand, and just looking at her with cold eyes. She would greet him and reach out for him, only to have the spear thrust into her stomach and for her to see the blood begin to soak into the armor he had commissioned for her.

She rubbed at her eyes, forcing herself to not cry. It was such a silly thing to cry over, it wasn't like she was in love with him or something.

And that really was the crux of the problem. It wasn't love, but she couldn't help admiring him and all that he had done for her. He had brought her to this city, made her part of the Elite guard, and made her a symbol of Demacia. Jarvan had even suggested joining the League. You would of course admire someone who had done all that for you. That it was evolving into something deeper was causing her to doubt herself.

She laid on her bed, thinking about the dream and becoming more and more agitated as time went on. With a muffled scream, she pushed herself off the bed and snagged her dressing robe from a nearby chair. She pulled it on quickly, ignoring Valor who watched her from the windowsill.

The hallways were almost empty, only a few maids and servants walked past her. They ignored her for the most part, save a few who shot her clothing a few glances. She wasn't considered decent by these city folks, but she thought she was fine for a walk to the showers and back.

When she finally reached the showers, she slipped in and gave a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind her. She slipped off the robe and began to walk towards the row of showers, enjoying the room's heat. When she finally reached the main shower room, she was surprised to see the room already occupied and by someone she had been avoiding for the past week.

Shyvana.

The blue skinned woman was washing her hair and seemed to be ignoring Quinn. Just thinking that she was ignoring her made Quinn bristle, but she turned on the shower head and began to wash away the cold sweat from the dream. The hot water seemed to calm her worries as well and soon she was relaxing in the room's silence.

As she finished washing her own hair, Quinn looked over to see Shyvana sitting against the wall under the water's spray, eyes closed in relaxation.

She wondered if Shyvana had ever had such dreams. She wasn't naive in thinking the other woman didn't feel something for Jarvan. She had seen with her own eyes that Shyvana's gaze followed him whenever he was in the room. She was always willing to volunteer for missions and always gave her all in battle.

Shyvana had to have faced Jarvan on the field. She had to have died to his hands or even worse... killed him herself.

It was like a punch in the gut to ever think of killing Jarvan. How could she even think of such a thing? Could she really aim her crossbow at him and do everything in her power to bring him down?

"How do you deal with it?" came from her lips before she could stop herself. Her voice trembled with emotions, but her eyes stared at the other woman.

Shyvana's orange orbs opened and looked blankly at Quinn. Her head tilted slightly to her left, "Hm?"

A dam broke inside of her, "How do you deal with it? Seeing him out there on the field? Seeing him trying to kill you... trying to kill him? How do you stay sane?"

The half-dragoness watched her for a few moments before she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall, "I remember that I do everything for him." Her lips turned up slightly in a smile, "I fight for him and I kill for him."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked as she moved across the room to sit by Shyvana. The woman turned her head and looked at Quinn for a moment, "You want to show him you are strong, correct?" At Quinn's nod, the woman continued, "I remember that even when I fight him, I am showing him that I can fight. I show him how strong I am and how well I can take him down. I show him how I can lead my team to victory. When I die to him, I know I at least gave it my all and know he will see me with respect in the end."

Quinn frowned, "But what about-"

"What about killing him?" Shyvana chuckled to herself, "I keep my personal life separate from what happens on the field. I do not bring my personal feelings into play when I know Prince Jarvan is doing the same. I know that he would not hesitate to kill me and I must show him that I can do the same. I see the fields as a way to show off my skills and to show him how I can stand beside him as an equal. I do not allow my feelings to weaken me in battle. How do you think he would look at you if you let your feelings over-ride your orders?"

Quinn paled and nodded to herself. Yes, she could see Jarvan being appalled at her for holding herself back in battle, just because she didn't want to harm him. It not only did a disservice towards her team, but also to him in thinking he can't handle himself.

"So... show off?"

The half-dragoness gave a grin, "Show off."

After a quiet moment, Quinn smirked, "So may the best woman win."

Shyvana stopped smiling and narrowed her eyes, "I thought we agreed on person. So may the best person win."

With a laugh, Quinn got to her feet and grabbed her robe, "Yeah, the best person win. You just wait till the next time I'm summoned. I'm going to ruin the other team and show Jarvan just how strong Valor and I are."

Shyvana also got to her feet and walked over to grab her own robe. Tying it closed, she walked towards the door and pulled it open, "When we meet again, do not think I will hold back."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Quinn replied and watched her new opponent walk out the door.


End file.
